


Wrong Guy, Right Time

by Trikkster



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Nudity, Past Infidelity, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Sexy Negan (Walking Dead), Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 21:28:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18374420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trikkster/pseuds/Trikkster
Summary: Rick Grimes, a 26-year-old Sheriff's Deputy living with his wife and son in idyllic King's County, tries to be the best person he can be. But when you try to stretch yourself so thin, things are bound to fall apart eventually. When the blindfold is violently ripped off, The normally passive man loses control, making a mistake that will cost him 6 months of his life as he spends it behind bars, his wife, his kid, his job, and half of what he owns. Living in Atlanta after a parole hearing luckily goes his way, Rick is trying to bring the broken pieces of his life back together. In saunters Negan Dean, a 40-year-old spitfire of a man. All attitude and not afraid to speak his mind, Negan is the type of asshole that gets under Rick's skin in all the worst ways. . . and unfortunately happens to be the parole officer in charge of keeping an eye on the former Sheriff's Deputy. As they talk though and learn more about what goes on beneath the surfaces of the other, a new feeling starts to stir within Rick, one that he hasn't let himself feel in a long time. My first attempt at writing an AU Walking Dead fic. And yes, the ending is a happy one. ;)





	Wrong Guy, Right Time

**Author's Note:**

> So guys, inspired by all of you out there writing AU RickxNegan fics (especially inspired by GettinGrimey), I have decided to throw my hat into this particular ring of the Walking Dead Fanfic Writer world! Yes, I will be continuing with Metamorphosis, but for those of you who might also like something a little lighter and fluffier, this one is for you! I hope you enjoy it, I am already enjoying writing it and look forward to writing out scenes I have already had running through my head for this story! I'm really excited about this story, and hope that you all like it!

Prologue  
”I never ask you where you’re going, I’ve never asked you where you’ve been. I’ve never called and checked your story, when you stayed out with all your friends.” Toby Keith’s voice drawled through the speakers of the bronze colored Chevy Silverado as it rolled through the small town in King’s County, Georgia. Rick sucked in a deep breath and let it out, glancing around as he drove past the gas stations, stores, and restaurants he’d known since childhood. 

The hot Italian food he’d picked up at Minori’s, a local restaurant in town that was his wife’s favorite place to eat out, sat steaming in the truck’s passenger seat. The food made his stomach rumble, the smells of garlic, tomato, parmesan and basil filling the cab of the truck. Glancing at the clock of the truck, his crystal blue eyes gazed at the illuminated digits that glowed 8:00 in green neon, letting him know that it was only 4 hours until his six year anniversary with his high school sweetheart.

“I’ve never tried to catch you lying, I didn’t want to know the truth. I’d rather go on loving blind girl, than go on loving without you,” Toby Keith continued as the light he came up to turned red. Rick frowned and pushed his boot down on the brake pedal, taking his Sheriff’s Deputy hat off of his head and placing the hat in the seat on top of the food. Rubbing his short brown hair with one hand, the Sheriff’s Deputy yawned as the truck rolled to a gentle stop. He’d been scheduled to pull another double today at the station, mostly because since it was a small Police Department due to the size of the town there was always plenty of paperwork and other things to do in spite of low crime rates.

His long shift was also because the Sheriff, Philip Blake, was a hardass that seemed to have it out for Rick ever since his days as a Police Officer with the station. Michonne Gurira, one of the Civilian Investigators, who had actually agreed to finish the end of Rick’s shift that evening since his main task was only to be 911 dispatcher with her until he was scheduled to be off at 11 pm, often told Rick that she overheard Blake talking with some of his buddies, claiming how he knew Rick was going to try to take his Sheriff job from him one day. 

Which honestly, didn’t make much sense seeing as how even though Rick wanted to get promoted to Sheriff someday, he was perfectly fine to just continue on the police station career track at the pace he was currently at and more than willing to settle for Sheriff’s Deputy for now. But Rick knew that once Blake was convinced that he “just knew” something, there would be no convincing the man otherwise. So the jerk rode him hard day in and day out, assigning him shifts that went from early in the morning to well into the night. Not that Rick minded, really, since he loved working for the Police Department. He’d been wanting to do it ever since he’d rode in his father’s cop car when he was five years old.

As the light turned green he continued on down the road, heading through the outskirts of the main part of town and past small communities that slowly petered out into farmland with a few houses and barns set miles from one another. He blinked and slowed down, turning the radio down to where he could barely hear the words of the song, pulling to the side as he saw some red and blue lights flashing as a King’s County police car sped by, and turned his head, frowning after it as his fingers moved to where his radio always was clipped on at his side, wondering why it hadn’t alerted him to anything happening. They weren’t riding behind anyone, after all. As he felt his belt’s smooth surface instead of a hard plastic device, he sighed. That was right. He’d left it at the station. Letting the truck speed back up to a normal driving time, he turned the radio back up, the song having ended, with another one taking its place. “Neon Moon” by Brooks and Dunn came rolling through the speakers, slow and gradual, and Rick frowned. What kind of a breakup kick was the country station on? Shaking his head, he pushed the button to change the station, leaning back and rolling his shoulders, stretching a little as a rock station began to play. Turning up the radio more, he tried to push the curiosity of what the police car was up to out of his mind.

He felt weird, not knowing what was going on, having always gone the extra mile ever since he’d gotten back from the Georgia Public Training Center in Forsyth, Ga about 7 years prior, even to the point of keeping a charger for his radio on his bedside table, ready to hop up and go if they needed him at the station in the blink of an eye. He’d gone to Forsyth to train right out of High School, and only left the Center once to come back to King’s County for the birth of his son, his soon-to-be-wife at the time having conceived Carl right before Rick had gone to the GPSTC. He had felt guilty having to go back south, leaving her with the newborn, but she had assured him that she would be fine, what with both of their families helping her take care of the baby. Rick had been able to tell that she really wanted him to stay, but had understood that he needed to focus on the big picture. 

He had obviously wanted to be a Police Officer, the profession being the only career path he’d ever thought of pursuing, and staying at the GPSTC and calling home each night seemed like the best way to move forward with his career and later provide for his family in the long run. It had been that thought that had caused him to climb back in his truck and head back down to Central Georgia, and when he’d returned to marry Lori and had gotten the job under Blake, it seemed like everything fell into place. He’d thrown himself into his work and spending time with his family, eventually buying a house in the country two years ago where Carl could play in the yard to his heart’s content once he had enough money saved up.Unfortunately, it hadn’t all gone as smoothly as he’d wanted it to. Sure he’d bought the house and now that he had moved back to King’s County, he was able to be there for many of Carl’s milestones, making up for the ones he’d already missed while in Forsyth for three and a half years, in spite of working long hours. 

He’d taught his son to ride a bike and to fish, and Carl had even “helped” him and his buddy Shane install a lovely hunter green porch swing for Lori’s birthday about two months prior. He’d made sure to be off for every birthday his son had, and was always off every Tuesday night when he took Carl to boy scout meetings. There, he always helped out at the meetings to teach the scouts skills and lessons. After each lesson he’d go with his son to the local diner-where coincidentally Lori worked as a waitress during the day- and they’d eat together as father and son and talk about Carl’s day before going to the Dairy Queen in town and getting two cones. Even though the six year old clearly wished he could see his dad more, he was happy every time Rick could spend time with him, and Rick knew that they were forming memories that would last a lifetime. He couldn’t wait to make more with his son. And of course, like his father before him, he’d taken Carl for rides in his police car down the back roads, turning on the siren and lights and speeding up a little to make his son grin. To Carl, the fact that Rick was a Police Officer was pretty cool, even though he could tell that his son wasn’t as hooked on the whole thing as he had been at his age, and that he probably wasn’t going to pursue that career path. Still, Carl likened Rick to one of the many superheroes he watched on tv, and, even though Rick hardly felt like the minor crimes in King’s County compared to a villain trying to take over the earth, it made him happy to think that Carl viewed him with such awe. So that part had worked out as well as the house and keeping his job. What hadn’t worked out, unfortunately, was Lori. 

His wife decidedly didn’t feel such enthusiasm for his chosen profession. She hated the long hours he worked, especially when he stayed past the time he was supposed to be off and as a result missed dinner and other plans they had tried to make. That left her very sour with him and had led to him often having to eat reheated meals alone at their table, feeling very much like a scolded pup. She had also threatened many a time to smash his “goddamn radio” to piece. It seemed to happen every time it went off beside their bed now. More than once she had claimed that Rick valued his “marriage to the station” more than their own, and that as a result she felt like she no longer mattered in his life, seeing as he didn’t seem to have any time to spare for them being together. Gradually that led to them not talking very much, and they were hardly affectionate with one another, either physically or emotionally. They hadn’t made love in about 6 months and more than once Rick wondered if they were heading for a divorce, even though she never explicitly brought that up.

About two weeks ago he had outright asked her if that was what she wanted, and Lori had immediately gotten defensive as she reeled back and snapped at him, asking if he was asking because that was what HE wanted. When he’d assured her that it wasn’t, she’d burst into tears and he’d hugged her close on their porch swing, rocking her softly back and forth in it, as she’d said that she didn’t want that and that that was the last thing she wanted. According to he all she wanted was for them to be closer, that she just wanted everything to be what everyone in the family needed.

That had been the longest they’d talked in one sitting and the longest he’d held her in months, and Rick had hoped that from there on out they could get marriage counseling or at least try to move forward. For a week it had seemed like that was the case, at least regarding the latter. For that week, each night that Rick would come home he’d hold her and they’d go over what had happened that day, her waiting to eat with him so that they could spend that time together. Unfortunately it had been a small victory, and the past week, with him having double shifts or working over time more than the week before, the stress had returned to their marriage. 

By the time he got home at night, Lori was already asleep, or if she was awake she was quiet with him, reading her book in the living room while he ate quietly in the dining room, knowing deep down that if he said anything, it would only make things worse. At least, that was the sort of silent treatment he’d been receiving until yesterday morning, when she’d asked Rick what he worked the next night and he’d told her about the third double shift he had to work that week. She’d blown up on him, going from 0 to 100 in about five seconds. Tonight was Friday, and their anniversary was on Saturday, she’d declared as if Rick had stupidly forgotten. The volume with which she had spoken to him made him happy that Carl had already gone on the bus to school. Rick had tried to tell her that he in fact had asked for Saturday and Sunday off and was getting the two days off for their anniversary, but she’d only thrown that back in his face, claiming that if he worked late Friday, he’d be too exhausted to do anything Saturday. Clearly, even if he hadn’t asked for the double he had already done something horrible and unforgivable in her eyes. It had left Rick staring at her, unable to know to do anything but turn and leave, even as she’d roared in frustration behind him. 

When he’d gotten to work, he’d talked to Michonne about it. She was his confidant along with Shane, who had been his best bud since they were kids, regarding all things Lori, and Shane had already been out on patrol. He would have waited on Shane to come back to talk to his friend about it, but he had just had to talk to someone. Together, he and Michonne had come up with the plan for her to cover his shift since Blake would be off the entire day anyway, the Sheriff being off at some conference for the entire weekend. Rick had asked Carl if he wanted to stay at his friend Sophia Peletier’s house for the weekend, after calling to check that it was ok with her single mother Carol. Carol and Carl had both agreed to Rick’s requests without question, not that he’d expected any different answers. 

Rick had answered a domestic disturbance call regarding Sophia’s father Edward about three years ago, and had found out that Carol was being abused by him. He’d personally helped her file for a restraining order and later for divorce, already knowing her due to the fact that her family and the Grimes family had spent a lot of time together over the years and being beyond furious when he’d realized that she had been suffering for so long in silence. Carol was older than Rick, but she’d always been a staple in the community, working at the local Dry Cleaners, and Rick had taken on the personal responsibility to get her to a point where she didn’t have to be scared in her own home anymore. During that time,Carl had gotten incredibly close to Sophia, Rick feeling like playing with the girl would help Sophia through the stress of the changes that came with the divorce and taking Carl with him on his frequent visits with Carol. So tonight Carl was staying with Carol and Sophia in their house closer to the heart of town, and would be there through Sunday evening.

With Carl being away, Michonne and Rick had figured that that would give Rick plenty of time for surprising Lori by coming home early with her favorite italian food tonight for a romantic meal that would involve just the two of them, and later making up for lost time with her on their actual Anniversary. Rick had made reservations at AG Steakhouse in Atlanta and had booked a room at the Ritz-Carlton there for Saturday night. It was a bit of a drive and definitely more money he had planned on spending for the weekend, but he figured that he and Lori could make a full trip out of going to the larger city. They could go shopping, he could buy her something nice, and then they could have a great meal with nothing from the rest of hteir lives getting in their way. He hoped that that would help regain some of what they’d lost. 

As he pulled up to their driveway, he looked up the slight hill to their white farmhouse with its green shutters and large porch, the green swing on it moving gently in the night breeze. Turning the wheel, Rick let the truck roll up the drive, the gravel crunching into the dirt beneath his tires, glancing at the large oak tree in their yard, Carl’s tire swing swaying gently from it. As Rick pulled up, he saw the golden light of their bedroom window over the garage where Lori normally parked her Honda Civic, and noted that the porchlight and the living room lights were on as well. As he drew closer to the house, he frowned at the car parked to the side. Lori’s black Honda sat there, parked beside the steps leading onto their porch. Rick gritted his teeth, concern filling him. Every time Lori didn’t bother pulling into their garage, she was pissed off, either with her long day at work or-and this was far more frequently-with him for some reason. He had a bad feeling that it was because of him this time.

Sighing, pulling up beside her and throwing his own truck in park, he turned and knocking his hat aside and into the floorboards, grabbed the bags of food. Dammit, he hoped she wasn’t in such a bad mood that his efforts for the weekend were in vain. . . turning, he opened his truck door and hopped out of the vehicle, closing the door and locking it before moving to the steps of the porch, taking the four steps two at a time and moving quickly to the screen door. The door swung back with a creak which was no real surprise, but Rick frowned upon finding the front wooden door of the house unlocked. It wasn’t necessarily odd for this to happen in King’s County. Although modern times were filled with danger and uncertainty, many people in the rural county still left their doors unlocked, especially if they lived out in the country. But not Lori. . . she was always sure to lock the door. She’d yelled at Rick plenty of times when he’d forgotten to. . . he frowned, pushing the door open and shuffling inside. Maybe she’d just forgotten when she was mad. . . it was as he heard something beneath his feet rustle and saw something down there move that he looked down, and stared at the red rose petals his boots stood upon.

Turning, he frowned, slowly watching the petals as he locked the dead bolt. As his eyes traveled over the floor of the entryway, the petals were slowly joined by others that lead down the area of the house and behind the couch in the living room. Following them, he noted that the trail led to the dining room to the left. Rick couldn’t help but smile a little, and gripped the bag of food tighter, “Lori?” he called, to see if she was near enough to hear, “Lori what’s going on?” He followed the path as he spoke, and stared, at the large bouquet of red roses, six buds open and glistening in the dining room light, in the center of their barnwood table, right beside an open, half full bottle of champagne in a container filled with ice and two long stemmed champagne glasses beside that, each half full with the rose colored liquid, one with a lipstick stain on the rim. Trying really hard not to get his hopes up but feeling them rise within him all the same, Rick chuckled and moved into the room, setting the food lightly on the table and easing out of his brown leather jacket, glancing around and into the darkened kitchen, where the rose petals led to as they made their way through the house, “Hey Lori, you there? I have your favorite from Minori’s, I got off work early sweetheart.” 

There was still no response from his young wife, but as he paused to wait for one, he heard music playing upstairs, on full blast from the boombox in their room if the clarity he could hear in the song even from so far away was any indication. He cracked a grin that made his eyes sparkle as the song “Come A Little Closer” by Dierks Bentley played. “Maybe I finally caught a break,” he murmured, and turning, grasped the glass of champagne without the lipstick and putting it to his lips, closed his eyes and tilted his head back, gulping it down. It was a sweet elixir with a hint of strawberries, and although he’d never been much of a person for champagne, he decided right then and there it was his favorite drink in the world if tonight was the chance him and Lori had needed to repair what had become broken over the years. 

Grabbing the other champagne glass and transferring it to that hand so that he held both in one hand, he grabbed the bottle of champagne with the other and turning, followed the trail of rose petals out of the room. Really, he didn’t have to follow them anymore since he had a feeling he knew where he was going, as he took the stairs up to the second level of the house two at a time. 

Rick made his way down the darkened hallway, following the music as it gradually got louder. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he passed by the guest room, then the hall bathroom, then the laundry room and Carl’s room, and turning a corner, the man focused on their bedroom door, cracked with golden light spilling along with the music around the edges. He smiled and walked forward, his anxiety causing him to quicken his pace. He and Lori hadn’t had a night of intimacy in so long, but if he was reading everything right, he was sure this would be them starting over, beginning anew. He didn’t know why this sudden change had come about in his wife, but he was ready to grab the chance to make things right. He’d work less if he had to, they’d talk more, they’d. . . 

He frowned as the music paused in between the stereo switching from the Dierks Bentley song to “Your Man” by Josh Turner. As the new song began he frowned, his hopes beginning to falter. In that silence, he’d heard moaning, grunting, and the tapping of the bed’s posts against the wall. His grip on the necks of the glasses tightened a little as he slowed himself down, walking slowly up to the room as opposed to the fast pace he’d used before. He hadn’t wanted to leave Lori waiting before, but now he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at the realization that she might not have had to wait to begin with.

The music was still loud, but now that he was listening closer, he heard his wife’s voice. There was no way it wasn’t hers. She was moaning loudly, and as he heard the words, “Please, harder, faster, harder!” followed by the harsh slap that sounded a lot like a spank, he gulped, a lump forming in his throat. He heard the cry she gave in response to the slap, and he felt his heart sink. Someone was in there with his wife, clearly. . . “You like that Lori baby, like how my dick feels in that tight pussy o’ yours?” a deep masculine voice drawled. 

Rick dropped the glasses, his wife’s affirmative almost completely blocked out by the ringing he suddenly heard in his ears, standing only two feet from the door, and they shattered against the carpet of the hallway. “Sh-Shane?” he whispered, glancing at a picture on the wall. There he was, standing beside Shane Walsh, his friend since childhood. In the picture they were both in full uniform. It was a picture to commemorate them both graduating from GPSTC and starting on the King County Police Force. Picture Rick’s blue eyes shone as he smiled at the camera with a grin that showed almost all of his teeth and made his dimples nearly reach his eyes. His hot blooded friend just had a lazy smirk on his face, his eyes dark as obsidian in contrast to Rick’s, the larger man standing about a foot taller than the brunette. The two of them had not just gone to GPSTC together, they’d been nearly inseparable growing up. Getting in trouble, which was usually a result of Shane’s less than fabulous ideas, and getting out of trouble which was a result of Rick’s quick thinking, was the theme to Rick’s youth. The two of them had graduated together, had gone to GPSTC together, had come back to King’s County for Carl’s birth together, and when they had ultimately come back to join the Police Force and continue to live their lives in the place they’d grown up in, Shane had been Rick’s best man as he and Lori had exchanged their vows. 

Over the years Rick and Shane had still been close, even if they weren’t as close as they once were. Shane was a staple in Carl and Lori’s lives almost as much as Rick was, at least up until about 6 months ago. 6 months ago, Shane had begun to rapidly spend less time with Rick. Rick remembered the day that their relationship had seemed to change all too well, when Shane had shown up for work with a massive hangover. Rick had been shocked, not because his friend had gotten incredibly intoxicated which was not so unusual for his impulsive friend, but because he hadn’t known Shane had gone out drinking. Shane’s reason behind that lack of knowledge had been that Rick had had to pull a double the night before so he’d gone out to the local bar and met some guys to hang with on his own. Apparently they’d hit it off because recently it seemed that any time Rick was working Shane was hanging out with them, getting buzzed and getting laid by his own braggart admissions.

Any time Rick had asked if he could meet the people Shane was hanging out with, just out of general curiosity given his own closeness to the man, Shane had said that they would love to meet Rick and that he would be glad for them to all meet up and drink sometime. But as of that moment, it had seemed like Rick’s schedule and the times when the other guys were available hadn’t lined up at all to provide such a chance meeting. Rick grit his teeth as he slowly peeked his head through the door upon reaching it, pushing on it gently so that the hinges didn’t creak as he looked inside his own bedroom feeling like a peeping tom. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew who Shane’s new hang out “buddies” were, and that unfortunately it was only one woman who just so happened to be the person Shane had so proudly claimed to have fucked during the past few months. The thought made him want to hurl, or at least turn around and walk away and think about what to do next.

But he couldn’t, the part of him that needed clarification on what he was hearing insisting he push the door open just a crack so as to not overly disturb the two people in the room beyond. What he saw made him wish he could unsee it immediately, and caused his grip on the champagne bottle tighten as tears start to form in his eyes, the words from Toby Keith coming back to haunt him in his head, “I wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then.” 

Shane’s police uniform had been tossed haphazardly onto the floor, and currently Rick’s best friend had his back to the door as he knelt on the bed, his hips pistoning back and forth and driving the cock they were attached to repeatedly into the woman positioned doggy style on the bed, her head turned away from the door as well, her messed up hair veiling her face as she was thrust forward before she pushed herself hungrily back onto the man plowing into her. The smells of sweat and sex filled the room, letting Rick know that this wasn’t the first time they’d gone at it that night. He felt a lump form in his throat as he trembled at the door, watching as Shane’s hands gripped Lori’s hips to the point of bruising as he thrust his cock deep into her, making her moan and beg for more as he all too well gave her just that. 

As her moans reached a new height, one that rivaled the music playing in the room as the bed Rick and her had shared slammed repeatedly against the wall with the force of Shane’s thrusts, Rick couldn’t watch any more and staggered backwards until his back hit the wall, staring at them through the now half open door, his mouth still open in shock, his face pale as chalk. He couldn’t believe what was happening, and wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t playing out before him in some sort of sick nightmarish reality. The man he trusted and the woman he loved were acting out the greatest betrayal before his very eyes. His lips shook, and a part of him wanted to scream at Shane, to run in there and rip him off of his wife, then to scream at her how she could do that to him. But all those words got stuck in his throat, threatening to strangle him, and the shock he felt made his body feel like lead as he sank down to the floor to sit on his ass. He was dumbstruck, his brain seeming to have shut off. He didn’t know what to do, so he brought the champagne mechanically to his lips, sobbing into the rim of the rose colored glass before closing his eyes, letting the tears race down his cheeks as his heart broke with each thump, grunt, and moan. Tilting the bottle for lack of knowing what else to do, he gulped down the liquid within.

The once sweet champagne tasted vile as it ran down his throat, and still he drank, sobbing into the drink and making it bubble and slosh against its confining bottle, using it to muffle his weeping as he listened to Shane claim he was going to cum deep inside of his wife and that he was going to fill her up. Rick trembled, shaking in his misery as Shane asked if she was ready to cum too. He heard her affirmation of that, and then heard both of them reach climax, the sound blaring in his ears. His vision blurred with the water in his eyes as he shook all over, continuing to chug the champagne for lack of anything else to do. Worrying about them getting a divorce seemed like nothing compared to what he should have really been worrying about, he realized. In the next minute the alcohol was all gone and he sighed, moving the bottle back down and resting it on the carpet, laying his head back and silently crying out his pain as the two traitors spoke, now flopped down on the bed. “Happy Sixth Month Anniversary baby,” Shane slurred, clearly intoxicated himself, racing his fingertips up and down Lori’s back as she lay, her ass in the air with the evidence of what they’d just done trickling down her thighs. “Happy Anniversary,” she breathed softly, and Rick grit his teeth, opening his bloodshot eyes, anger forming in the midst of his pain. That should have been them in there, saying that to one another. The bottle creaked under his tightening grip. “Wish I could take you out all nice, Lor,” Shane murmured, continuing to move his hand up and down her back, and as Rick watched him do so, he grit his teeth together so hard it felt like they were about to crack wide open. 

“You know we can’t do that, Shane,” Lori sighed, moving out from under his hand and getting off of the bed, walking to what Rick assumed was her closet and out of view. Shane sighed, flopping back on the pillows, frowning at her, “And why not? Why not just let everybody know the goddamn truth? Would it really motherfucking surprise anyone? Everyone who knows anything about the two of you would know that Rick works all the time and ya’ll don’t get on like ya used to. It’s so goddamn obvious, it kills me that you two keep on trying to pretend to be happy high school sweethearts. So that people keep thinkin’ that he’s the one warming your bed at night and not me.”

Lori sighed, and walked back over, frowning at Shane, tying her white silk bathrobe tight around her waist, running her fingers through her hair in a vain attempt to fix it. “Shane, I can’t do that to Rick. You know that. It’s not his faul-” Shane scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stood up, frowning as he walked around the bed to be right in front of her, “Bullshit. You’re the one that called me and asked me to fucking come over, and I’ve heard from him and you how miserable he makes you. And that day I finally offered to do something ‘bout it, to finally fucking make you happy the way you needed me to, you blamed your shitty day and what would have been a shitty night all on his pussy ass not telling Blake he could take the fucking double shift and stuff it where the sun don’t shine. Hell Lor, the reason I’m here tonight is because you feel like it’s all his fault. Don’t you goddamn lie to me about that.” 

Lori sighed, and nodded, and Shane gripped her chin firmly, leaning in and pressing her lips against his, and Rick felt his stomach turn as he watched the man kiss his wife and watched her kiss him back, her hands reaching up to tentatively embrace the sides of his neck. He felt the silent tears race down his cheeks, this time fueled by anger instead of sadness. All these months they hadn’t touched one another, she’d been going to Shane instead of trying to talk things out with him. . . as she pulled away from Shane, gazing at him with a defeated look in her eyes, Lori sighed, conceding, “Fine, I do blame him, Shane. But Rick is a good father, and if I’m being honest he tries to do what’s right. I can’t take him from Carl, I can’t. . .” 

Shane rolled his eyes, and turned, heading for the door. Rick tensed all over, eyes widening, knowing he needed to try to hide but unable to convince himself to move, as the man muttered, “Whatever babe. Gonna go downstairs and grab that champagne, finish it off before we head in for another roun-” At that the man pushed the door open and stared, stopping, naked as the day he was born as he stood there across from the man on the floor. Instead of looking panicked though, a slow grin crossed his face, “Hey Lor, don’t think we have to keep anything from Ricky anymore.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Lori called. “I’m talking bout the fact that your pussy hubby’s a goddamn peeping tom. And it looks like he’s drank the rest of our champagne,” Shane laughed, his words slurring as he reached down and moved his hand over his cock, making it jerk a little. The action alone made Rick growl a little, as Shane slurred, “What’s with the secrecy, Ricky, wanting to learn how a real man takes care of your wife? Cuz you don’ have to hide for that shit. I’ll show ya right up close an’ personal.” “What?!” Lori said, her voice rising in panic moments before the boombox was turned off and she rushed out to stand beside Shane in the hallway, staring at Rick, eyes wide, mouth agape, face pale. 

Anything she was going to say though in her defense or in apology to Rick fell on deaf ears as Rick felt something inside him snap and the normally passive man saw red, the culmination of his grief and anger rising to the surface all at once and flooding him with blind rage. It was a rage that had no rhyme or reason, that only wanted to hurt the man and woman before him the way they’d hurt him. . . but he wouldn’t hurt Lori, not really, no matter how much she hurt him, sooooo. . . With a strength he hadn’t had a few minutes before, he rose up, gripping the bottle tightly in his hands. In the next instant, he was right in front of the man he’d trusted, the bottle smashing against his head and shattering before Shane even realized what was going on.

He heard Lori scream as he tackled Shane in the next instant, the two of them slamming into the door and ripping it off of its hinges before slamming into the floor of the room beyond, raining punch after punch down on one another as they kicked and rolled and scrambled about, trying to gain leverage over the other. For a moment Rick was in control, then Shane grunted, being the better fighter, and rolling, slammed Rick firmly on the carpet, holding him down as Rick moaned and twisted beneath his iron grip. The bastard outright chuckled as Rick grunted and tried to get him off of him, Lori nowhere in sight, and the darker haired man licked a bit of blood from his split lip, grinning even with pieces of glass in his face as he spat the blood mixed with his saliva onto Rick’s cheek, “Don’t try to grow some fucking balls now, Ricky, shoulda just accepted the way things are now, ya fucking little shit. It’s too late to be her goddamn man now.” Rick growled, tired of the condescending tone, one Shane had used with him plenty of times over the years that he’d just let roll off of his back, and kicked his former friend hard in the nuts in retaliation, roaring as he flipped the man over as Lori shouted that she was calling 911, panicking due to what was happening upstairs. In that moment though, Rick didn’t care. His alcohol addled mind just wanted to beat that smug face so that it would never smile again. . .

“FUCKING HELL! YOU GODDAMN PIECE OF SHIT, CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING GODDAMN RIGHT?!!” a voice suddenly roared, and Rick jerked awake as the sour milk was thrown over him. Sitting up quickly, his legs tangled up in the ratty sheets he’d been laying under that were now soaked at the top, he panted, sputtering the vile liquid from his mouth that always hung open a little when he was asleep. Sweat covered his body as a result of his nightmare soaking through his now stained black t-shirt and blue and black plaid boxers. 

“What the fucking hell?” he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands to get the milk off of it or at the very least out of his eyes before pinching his nose and trying to snort any milk he’d inhaled as the man who had just thrown the liquid on him continued to shout at him, standing at the foot of the bed in his work clothes, having just gotten back from pulling a night shift at the warehouse where he worked. It was the third warehouse job he’d gotten that year. The other two had let him go due to him being quick tempered and prone to either brawling or cussing his coworkers out. Rick grunted, turning to look up at the man, the standing man’s blue eyes filling with rage and growing darker in sharp contrast to Rick’s dazed crystal blue ones. 

“FUCKING MILK’S GONE SOUR, YOU SORRY SHIT! NOW WHO’S FUCKING FAULT IS THAT?! ” Rick groaned, looking up into the angry, red face of Merle Dixon, noting some milk in the man’s gray, uneven beard. He still had a hint of his brunette hair on his close shaved head, but most of his hair had in fact grayed, the man being about ten years his senior, not that one could tell it he way he acted. Merle might be older than Rick, but it seemed like his temper had never gone past the teenage level of control. Now the man glared down at him, gripping the carton tightly in his hand as Rick turned, slowly sliding his legs over the edge of the makeshift bed in the living room of the rundown, outdated, two bedroom, one bathroom apartment Merle and his brother Daryl rented from the older Atlanta apartment building. 

This was without a doubt the last thing he needed, he decided, as Merle threw the empty carton at his shoulder and continued to shout at him the same thing over and over, how he was supposed to go get the milk with the rest of the groceries and how he was a hopeless layabout mooching off of him and Daryl, who had been about two years younger than Rick when the kid had lived with Mrs. Dixon in King’s County and gone to school with Rick in his senior year after the two brothers had been separated in their parents’ divorce. Rick grunted and leaned forward, closing his eyes and clenching his hands tightly together, feeling a weird mixture of irritation and gratefulness for being ripped out of his dream. He’d had it over and over again for months now, and it was always a constant reminder of just how his life had gone to shit in less than a year’s time. About how he’d gone from being a Sheriff’s Deputy with a family and a home to an unemployed ex-convict with no wife, no son, and only half of the marital assets. Currently he also had a hangover that was hitting him with such force that it could have knocked out a raging bull. . . like he wished he could knock out the raging bull standing in the living room roaring at him. But then, the terms of his parole wouldn’t allow for that. . .

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any technical errors as far as the training academy at the GPSTC is concerned in this chapter. I looked up their training courses and determined that if he took courses nonstop Rick could finish training there in 3.5-4 years. Soooo, what did you think of the chapter? More to come guys and gals, and Negan will be making an appearance very soon (should be at the end of the next chapter or near the beginning of the one after!)! Super excited about this story, hope you all enjoyed it! And yes, I did take a few liberties with the ages of the characters in the story, especially with Daryl and Merle, but I do hope that it did not sour anyone's reading of the chapter! Also, I had a tough time tagging this story, so if any of you guys have any suggestions for tags that I haven't already posted, just let me know!


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